Terrible Terror
by Astrid Elphaba Lovegood
Summary: Throughout his life, Hiccup has always wondered why people treated him so strangely. A strange course of events lead him to the true answer.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Because I own HTTYD.**

**Author's Note: This idea has been lurking in my head for a really long time and so here it is in print. It is unusual but hopefully you find it entertaining. Yes, my updates kind of disappeared but that's what happens when one gets a job and goes back to school. So, who else can't wait for October 15! Enjoy the first chapter!**

All he needed to do was close his eyes.

There, behind the walls of his eyelids, it didn't matter that he was completely useless at being a Viking. There, behind the walls of his eyelids, no one bombarded him with taunts. There, behind the walls of his eyelids, he was in a different world, where it didn't matter that he was the son of a chief and hadn't yet managed to kill a dragon. Of that world he was the master.

Frequent were his visits to that world. Every Viking noticed. His lack of presence in the real world struck no one as a surprise. Maybe _that's _why everyone found him so strange. Not even Fishlegs, the only boy his age worse than being a Viking than he was, pretended to show the least bit of enthusiasm around him.

Everyone pushed him away and whispered profusely behind his back. He never wanted to stick around to hear what they were saying. No one wants to know the whole truth. Not even Hiccup.

"Hiccup? Thor, give me strength, are you even listening to me?" said a voice, pulling him away from his world.

"Wha? Oh! Uhhh… Sort of."

The scowling figure of Stoick the Vast loomed over his son. Frustrated, he continued, "When will you learn to do as you're told and stay out of trouble during the raids?"

"But I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I was just testing out my new invention. You know how a bolas is too heavy for me to lift, let alone throw?"

All he needed was the thought of his new invention to bring him into the security of his fantasy. He even forgot to whom he was talking, and that his father was not the least bit interested. Regardless, he continued rambling.

"Well, I invented a sort of cannon that will throw it _for_ me! Think of all the others it would help! Those with war wounds too severe to go into battle often, teen Vikings, you know, to get them training. We could kill so many more dragons! Think of how efficient it could be! But I digress, Gobber told me not to leave the forge and I _didn't_. I merely fired my bolas cannon at a passing Gronkle and it would have been-"

Stoick brought his son back to Berk again. "It doesn't matter what you were trying to do! What matters is that you caused so much trouble for the village _again_! Why on Earth don't you listen to Gobber?"

"But I _did_ listen to him! He never told me not to fire. He didn't even know that I'd made it."

"What?" Stoick boomed, "Why on Earth didn't you tell him that you wanted to ruin all of our lives by "testing out" another one of your useless pieces of junk?"

Shrinking from his father, Hiccup blushed. He mumbled, "I wanted to surprise him with my first dead dragon. I swear to the gods, it wasn't meant to go that far. And all I wanted to do was-"

"First dead dragon? Dragons stopping their attacks on us will happen first! Hiccup, you're just not ready to kill a dragon."

The obviousity of his redfacedness was copious. All he wanted to do was impress his dad. Show him that he could do something right. There must be some way to make it up to him… "When _will_ I be ready?"

"Once you stop all…" Stoick made a face at Hiccup and motioned towards his entire body, "…_this_."

Frowning and with a sigh, Hiccup retreated to his bedroom. The door closed with a thud. Through it, the dreamer heard his father bellow, "And don't even think of going out of the house until I've gotten this mess sorted out."

Even in his own world, one question plagued Hiccup; why did people treat him almost as badly as a dragon?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Yeah, because I own HTTYD. But I do own the word "obviousity"!**

**Author's Note: Hey, people are interested! How did that happen? Thanks for favoriting. Reviews…? (Also, the first sentence of paragraph five… it seems completely stupid right now, but there is a need for it. Mwahaha.)**

One would think that Stoick had learned his lesson; Hiccup was not to be left unsupervised even in the house. Whether indoors or out, he was a problem. Stoick had wanted to rid his mind of the last time his son had been grounded that he didn't think about it before he went into the village to do business. Drained, the chief dragged his feet along his front steps and into his home, only to find Hiccup entangled in a net, scooting with difficulty along the paper-strewn floor in pursuit of a dagger a safe distance away. Immediately upon seeing his father, Hiccup attempted to conjure up a Viking stance, only to roll over onto his face. Stoick shook his head and sighed heavily.

It took all the strength he could muster to keep from raging at his son. In the awkward silence he took deep breaths. Slowly, he said, "What. In Valhalla. Did. You. Do?"

"Well…" Hiccup said in a falsely cheery voice, once more epically failing at a Viking stance, "…it's kind of a long story. But it only gets better from here!"

The chief knew his son well enough that he could practically touch the sarcasm. Unamused, he stared at the boy. "Don't lie to me, but for Thor's sake, don't tell me that it gets worse," he groaned.

In spite of being unable to escape the net for who knows how long, Hiccup broke free of the ropes restricting him and leapt up in a true Viking stance in front of Stoick. "Actually, it can only get better from here!" And he was off to his world. "You see, mistakes are essential in the invention process! So I got the idea of a machine that can bring down an entire dragon! Do you know how fantastic that would be? The power to snatch dragons from the air with a single shot! It's in our grasp! There are just a few issues now but-"

"A few issues?" Frustration reared inside the chief, "Hiccup, don't you realize what you're doing? You're not doing the village any good! This is gaining you absolutely nothing! Put away these silly ideas and concentrate on what's really important!"

His son argued, "What could be more important than preventing fatalities of our warriors?"

"Being one of your people! How are you ever going to be chief if you can't be like us? This has got to go."

"But this is me! I _like_ the way I am." Hiccup protested, "And without "this" there will be no way to advance and we'll be stuck in these dark ages forever!"

The chief groaned. "Is there no way for you to stay out of trouble?"

"But Dad, it's not as bad as it seems!" his son corrected, "I mean, the house is still standing. I mean… I didn't think that it was going to…"

He completely lost it. "The _house_?" Oh gods! Stoick knew to expect the unexpected when dealing with Hiccup, but he hadn't expected the house to be on its last legs! "That's it!" He boomed, "You're a disaster area outside the house and a complete boor in the house!"

Hiccup tried to cover it up but the damage had already been done. "No, Dad! See, it's not that bad! I fixed the stairs before they could get any-"

"This has gotten out of hand!" bellowed the chief. When he spoke this loudly, there was no way you could win. "You are the son of the chief and you need to learn to obey your elders! I can't deal with all the trouble you've caused for the village excluding you! When you're added into the mix, everything that can go wrong _will_ go wrong! You are coming with me!"

Stoick grasped Hiccup by the neck and trudged out the door.

"Ohh great," muttered Hiccup.

**Author's Note: For the friends who find this: Shout-outs to you: Val- obviousity. Kara- Murphy's law.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: If I owned HTTYD the world would be a Topsy-Turvy place.**

**Author's Note: Sorry for the **_**very**_** long absence: when you do theatre, you have no time. Ever. I was inspired by the release of HTTYD on DVD. So far, I've seen it eight times.**

"Mom, do we _have_ to?"

The scene before Hiccup reminded him of a similar one that had occurred half a lifetime ago. Like a film it reeled through his head.

"Hush," the Viking woman whispered warningly. Forcing a pained smile, the girl's mother accepted the chief's offer. "We'd be delighted." Of course she wouldn't be. But whoever said 'no' to Stoick did not live to tell the tale.

"Thank you." Stoick replied and before he left children alone, he hissed in Hiccup's ear, "Stay out of trouble."

The young Viking's eyes bore through Hiccup.

Eight years later, those same icy eyes shot daggers at him. Eight years ago, those eyes were less distinct and her rude remarks to her mother of "not one of us" etc detracted from the intensity. As time passed, Astrid had perfected the art of emitting the perfect death glare.

He didn't want to close his eyes: Astrid would know where he was headed and her snide comments would bring him right back out.

He opened his mouth and her stare intensified. Hiccup backed away, fell off the front step, then blushed, and pretended it hadn't happened. It wouldn't have been as embarrassing if he hadn't developed a liking for her which he wasn't good at hiding.

"Stop that!" was the first thing that came out of her mouth. She loomed over him and ordered, "Get up. You can do it on your own."

One moment, with great difficulty, his back throbbing, he lifted himself off the ground. The next, Astrid dragged him into her house, slammed the door, and raced around drawing the curtains.

As soon as Astrid's glower was off his back Hiccup regained his personality. "Well, hello, Hiccup," he said sarcastically, "how are you?"

"Does Hiccup always talk in third person?" Astrid retorted.

"Not usually. While we're not on the subject of greetings, how are you?"

She returned to staring him down. "Stop messing around. It's bad enough that I have to practically babysit you, but the talking, it's got to stop."

Confused as to what he was even doing that upset her, Hiccup looked at her and tried not to think about how beautiful he thought she was, or the way the sunlight coming in through a crack in the curtains reflected off her hair…

"Hiccup!" Her icy sharp eyes replaced the sunshine. "Thor, give me strength, were you even listening to me?"

He shrugged. "Sort of."

She rolled her eyes. "Very funny. You weren't listening. Just stop talking. Seriously."

But he couldn't stop talking. He had way too much to say and no one who wanted to listen to him. Did he ever?

"Alright then." He plopped down on the staircase next to her, sighed, and attempted to casually ask "So what do you want to do?"

Astrid groaned. "Really, Hiccup? It's not a play-date. In fact, it never was! Do you think that we're kids again or something? We're definitely not. Things have changed since then. I don't need someone to play with. I'm not…experimenting. I don't need to hang around others to validate my existence. I know who I am. Shouldn't you?

"And anyway, do you honestly think that this about what I want to do? There are a lot of things I could be doing right now and you're not exactly helping the situation. You're here because you'll wreck the house if you stay inside and wreck the village if you go out."

"Thank you for summing that up."

She had gotten less blunt over the years and this was a step in the wrong direction. Sort of like she was reverting to her childlike state. Did all women do that? When his mother was still alive he'd seen her do that all the time. He rested his head on the staircase and closed his eyes.

Before he knew it, he was flying. Over seas and towering cliffs through the fine morning mist of… wait, where on Earth was he? Was he even on Earth at all? He couldn't tell. Nothing looked familiar. But he had never flown before, so how could it? And more importantly, how was he flying? A whoosh of air whipped past his face and fire flew out of thin air before him…

"Oh gods, Hiccup, what have you done?" screeched a voice.

Astrid brought him out of his world. Maybe this explained the flying. Maybe a dragon had flown by and caused the disaster. He hadn't been paying attention. Anyway, no matter what he tried to tell Astrid, her mother, or his father would not believe anything he said.

Who would believe anyone who had been caught red-handed falling from the sky and breaking an enormous hole the Hofferson roof?

How Hiccup did that was beyond him.

**Author's Note: Shout-out to Shannon, Jordan, and Rachel a la "Never wear mauve at a ball or pink or open your mouth!" Another shout out to Jordan and Valerie a la "FINE MORNING MIST!"**


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